Either Way
by cyko1003
Summary: [DannyLindsay Oneshot] You can only hold out for so long... eventually, something breaks.


**AN: **Alright, here's something that happened after my plot bunnies woke up on sexathon of their own after last night's episode. Rating is T for very slight language and suggestive material.  
Super duper thanks to **Bobo** and **Spunkster** for the beta jobs.

**Disclaimer:** The usual. Don't own, just borrowing.

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**Either Way**

I sit at my desk, pretending to absorb myself in the mounds of paperwork that have been endlessly piling up. Through the glass, I see you leave the trace lab, your thoughts absorbed in the results paper in your hands. You glance up and catch me staring. I laugh nervously and drop my eyes back down to the papers in front of me. A part of me is just itching to look up again, to know if you're still looking at me… you have this way of looking at me, this deepness that bores into me that not one other person on this earth can do. It scares me, and yet, I'm so intrigued by it.

After a few minutes, I give into my urges and look up, but you're nowhere to be found. Glancing at the clock, I sigh in frustration and pack up my things. I need to get out of here, my brain is swimming. Sometimes, I just don't understand you. Today, with the Suicide Girls case – just when I thought I was working things out, that things were beginning to return back to normal, you come right back into my life and into my heart. You flip my world upside down. And as much as it scares me – god it scares me – I can't help but think that living in an upside down world with you would be, well, it would be really great.

I fumble with they keys to my apartment; when I try to get the key into the lock, I drop them. I blame it on you – how can I think straight when you're the only thing that's running around my head? Finally getting into my apartment, I slump down on my couch, closing my eyes. Of course, you're right in front of me, your eyes, your smile, god I can even smell you. I need to distract myself. How do you do it, invade my thoughts like that? You're not even here, I'm alone right now, and even in my solitude, you're here. You drive me mental.

I change out of my heavy work clothes, opting for a more comfortable ensemble. My stomach's growling, but I'm not hungry for food. I'm hungry for you. But I can't have you. Or won't have you. Not sure which, at the moment. Food it is.

Yeah, nothing in my fridge is even remotely appetizing. Now I'm just staring into the light, the slightly cool air making me shiver. I slam the door shut. Oh good, I can't even function because of you. It's all your fault. Remind me why you had to come into my life? And can someone _please _explain to me why I strangely _enjoy _this apparent inability to make even simple decisions?

I return to my previous position on the couch and turn on the TV. I robotically flip through the channels. Boring, boring, boring. I stop on one channel – of course that character looks like you. Or is it just me imagining that it looks like you? Why do I care if it looks like you?

You're going to land me in a mental hospital, you know that?

A knock at my door – finally, a distraction.

…Oh for fuck's sakes, are you kidding me?

You flash me that oh-so perfect, charmingly beautiful, melt-me-at-the-knees smile, and ask sheepishly if you can come in. Like I'd say no.

My stomach grumbles again as the scent of hot take-out wafts through my apartment from the plastic bag in your hand. Of course you brought food, you're always just in my head like that. I don't understand how you always seem to know what I'm thinking, even when I'm at home alone.

I follow you, attempting to make small talk. Why are you here, exactly?

You're here because you want to be. No, there's nothing wrong with that, I was only just asking, was curious. It's odd that you'd show up at my place this late, and part of me can't help but wonder if there are any ulterior motives for your visit. I had thought that we had straightened everything out, established things… Maybe I'm just reading into it too much. I'm not really sure. I want to ask you about it… but I'm too worried about making things awkward. Last week was hardly fun.

You seem to know your way around my kitchen pretty well, considering you've never been here. You rummage around, gathering plates and glasses, pouring drinks… I follow you out to the lounge, where you make yourself right at home and invite me to eat with you. You did bring food for two, after all.

The number of questions running through my mind right now is unbelievable, but to be perfectly honest, I'm glad for the company, and I'm glad that company is you. I eat with you quietly, alternating my gaze between you and the food in front of me. Thank god the television's on, the silence between us is nearly unbearable.

I decide to at least say something… I ask what's on your mind. You look at me solemnly, and answer with one word, me. You're worried that you've hurt me, and that was not at all your intention. You tell me you've missed the friendship that was there before. I miss it, too. I'm worried that what I said drove you away, and that thought kills me inside. My eyes go back down to my plate.

You put a hand on my leg, telling me it's alright, that we both have issues and that we've both been there for each other, and continue to be there for each other. But I'm scared, I haven't had this with anyone – someone that I could trust, open up to, be totally sure that if I fall you're right there to catch me.

The heat from your palm is radiating through my jeans… and my whole leg is now on fire and completely numb at the same time. Does that make sense? That's just the effect you have on me. And right now, I want nothing more than to lean forward and take your lips with mine, to run my hands over your body, to know you just a little bit more.

I feel myself begin to lean towards you slightly, but I'm so afraid. And that's so unlike me – I've always been the strong one, the brave one, I never let myself get affected, but god, what you do to me…

You say my name, your voice trailing off at the end. I know we shouldn't, there's just so many complications, but it just… it just feels so _right_…

My eyes are completely fixated on you, the room around me doesn't exist. And yours are fixed on me. Dammit you're making it really fucking hard to resist you.

But now you're the one leaning forward. Do I listen to my heart, and follow your lead… or do I listen to my head, and stop this before it even begins. I think my heart is winning, because I'm leaning ever-so-slowly towards you. Your scent fills my head, and now I'm only inches from you. My hand moves itself to your leg, and the tip of my nose brushes yours. My eyes travel from your lips up to your eyes, and in them I find reassurance.

My eyes close as your lips brush mine. It's only a slight touch that lasts a mere second. Opening my eyes again, you're searching mine, looking for my permission to continue. Yeah, the heart definitely wins this battle.

I bring your lips to mine again, pressing them together just slow enough to experience every single sensation. My hands wander your body of their own accord, and I can feel your hands on mind. They leave trails of fire on my skin, even though my clothes. We adjust simultaneously, our bodies connecting, heat intensifying. My heart is racing. Damn you taste good.

Your hands grasp the bottom of my shirt as you break the kiss, your eyes asking for my permission. It only takes you a moment to realize that I'm asking for that same permission. Slowly, I relieve you of your shirt, letting it fall to the floor behind you. My eyes trail down to your stomach, and I'm careful to take in every inch. I feel your hands slide onto the skin beneath my own top, and it's only a second before you've removed it from me.

And before I know it, you've managed to get me on my back. My hands slide your jeans past your hips, and you awkwardly wiggle them off. I can't help but laugh. But the laughing only lasts a second, because your lips are on mine again. And it's only one more second before I'm completely naked.

I pull away to look at your face. God, I find so much comfort in your eyes, the one person on this earth who understands me. We're so different, you and I – and yet, here with you, surrounded by you, connected to you… it's so… natural. It feels like we've been doing this for years.

Afterwards, I lie tangled in you. I don't trust anyone like I trust you, and tonight is just a further verification of that. I'm not afraid for you to let me in, to understand you, and you trust your secrets with me.

Being this close to you feels like the most natural thing in the world. I can feel every breath you take, and it soothes me. We came into each other's lives without warning, thrown into a situation neither of us asked for nor expected. We both came with our baggage, with broken pasts and haunting ghosts, but in each other we've found light, found a strength that gets us through it.

As we drift off to sleep wrapped in each other's arms, a wave of calm comes over me. After everything that's happened, everything we've been through, and how we've seen each other though it, this is just another indication of how right we are for each other. And now, neither of us has to go forward alone.

But when you think about it, we never were alone. We just didn't realize it.

Either way, there's no questioning it anymore. Now we're together.

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**AN: **And a small favour from the author... let me know whose POV you read this from (I'm curious), and then go read it a second time from the other person's. "Either way." :) 


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